


these boots are made for meet cutes

by ignitesthestars



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Caretaking, Drunkenness, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9513137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: Jyn throws up on his shoes.(or, meeting at a party whilst drunk au)





	

Jyn throws up on his shoes.

While admittedly not out of the realm of possibility for things she might do on purpose if provoked, this time it really is an accident. She’d stumbled outside, desperate to get away from the crush of bodies, the sweat and the heat and the noise pressing in on her skull. Parties have never really been her thing - _people_ have never really been her thing - but the few friends she does have unfortunately have a way of getting her to do things and be places that she would never otherwise bother with.

Vodka had probably not been the best coping mechanism. She’s willing to admit that. What she’s not willing to admit is being at fault to anyone except her own internal monologue as, she stumbles back against the glass doors to the balcony.

“Your shoes,” she manages to get out, “got in the way of my me.”

She waits for the anger with a sloppy smirk on her face. It’s a man - she’s not that far gone - and a man pretty enough to care about what happens to his shoes (she’s definitely that far gone). Except there is no anger - or at least, not in any form she’s used to. Her ears pick up on a sigh that her brain belatedly processes as frustration.

“My shoes got in the way of your vomit,” he points out, toeing them off.

“Then you shouldn’t have been outside.”

The frustration burns a little bright, and a grin steals the smirk away. She can feel the fight she’s looking for creeping up on them, wants to throw her arms out to embrace it. But just as soon as the charge crackles through the air, it fizzles out and dies. The man just looks - tired.

“Enjoy the fresh air,” he says, easing carefully past her to get inside and leaving Jyn too startled and drunk to stop him.

She considers hauling off and slugging him anyway, but even with her capacities limited as they are, she doesn’t want to create a scene. Jyn doesn’t care, but her friends don’t deserve the spectre of her shitty attitude hanging over all their social occasions.

So she lets the door swing shut behind her, stumbling over to the railing instead. Grey concrete and the blur of streetlights swims out past the cool railing, and beyond all of that, the dim glow of stars. Jyn presses her forehead to the rail instead of looking, glaring at the frayed ends of her bootlaces and counting her breaths.

“Here.”

There is a bottle in the corner of her vision. A second or two of contemplation reveals a hand attached to it, and a person attached to the hand. It’s the tired man with no shoes (because she threw up on them), and he’s offering her a bottle of clear liquid.

Jyn presses her cheek to the rail. “I’m not drinking that.”

“It’s water.”

“Just water? Drunk girl 101 is don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“I know.” The bottle shakes in front of her face. “It’s sealed.”

She might be spoiling for a fight, but that officially leaves her without much of a retort. Still eyeing him suspiciously, she takes the water, checking the seal before cracking it open.

“…Thanks,” she says begrudgingly, before sucking down the contents.

“You seemed like you needed it.”

“I’m doing _fine_.”

The both look at his shoes, lying forlorn in a puddle of sick. The tired man says nothing, but she thinks she might see the corner of his mouth twitch up.

She squirts him with the water.

“Wh - you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?”

“Yes.”

The alcohol pulls more honesty out of her than she’d meant to, but it stops him in his tracks. He leans back against the railing instead, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s a good chest. Jyn approves.

“I’m Cassian,” he says. “You’re buying me new shoes.”

“I’m Jyn,” she replies, taking another long pull from the water and staying where she is. “No I’m not.”


End file.
